Bye Bye Baby
by Oh-So-Retro
Summary: I love her. I have not told her, and for that, I hate myself.


**Bye Bye Baby  
**

It's so hard to take, but her mind has been made up. She chose him. I was the one, who could offer her anything, absolutely anything. I'd tear out my heart; I'd tear out anything, if only I could have her. She's not mine. She's Potter's. He has everything, the fame and glory, the great reputation. Why would she fall for someone, or even think about admiring a boy, that most people definitely think is going to be a Death Eater, if not already. I've always disillusioned myself into thinking I could be loved, be happy, I guess it's a Malfoy punishment.

Remember First Year when I smiled at you across the Great Hall, but you frowned back at me. I was never taught to smile, but I tried my hardest for an eleven year old. Then I told on Potter and Weasley because they were breaking the school rules being outside. I'd never meant to get you in trouble as well. "Excuse me Professor, did you say the four of us?" Remember that sentence, I was asking why you were involved, when clearly it was only Potter, Weasley and me who were in trouble. I was prepared to take the full-blame for you.

In Second Year it wasn't any better. I apologized a million times to you in my head, when I shut my eyes at night. Sorry, I couldn't tell you. I was scared, I was young, and I was foolish. I realise now how much Father doesn't play a role in my life anymore, him being dead and all. You would never forgive me, now knowing it, is a hard pain to endure. Those blood quills my Father got me for discipline, I used them to write "I'm sorry" over and over again on my arm till the sting actually felt real to me, I guess that's how you feel.

Third Year came round, I was an immature brat, I now realise. Screaming and cursing at the Hippogriff, Buckbeak did not help my reputation with you. I wanted you to at least sympathize, but knowing you already, you would not and could not sympathize someone like me. Pansy Parkinson did the groveling and fluttering at me, because of a stupid arm cast. I wanted to smile round at you and shout, "Hey Hermione, I've broken my arm." As if we'd been friends forever. I knew you'd just glare and say something spiteful towards me if I actually had the guts to do so.

Fourth Year was memorable as ever. Taking out my anger on Potter resulted myself turning into a ferret by Mad-Eye Moody. I can still see that laughing, jeering and pleasure on your face, as well as the other two idiots you hang around with, especially the changing facial expressions of your boyfriend. After the many years of masking those feelings for you, I did it easily; it came to me as a second nature. My first was no doubt to love you. Before the big match I collected my courage and followed you to the library to tell you how I felt, though Weasley messed that opportunity for me.

I cornered you in Fifth Year, wanting an explanation from you, why you and Potter were sneaking about. You flew into rage, asking me was it my business and of my concern. Basically, you told me to go to hell. Accidentally I blurted out the first thing that came to my head, "You're mine." Quickly realizing what I had said, I obliviated your memory and carried you to the Room of Requirement. I laid you down on the bed and took a book from the shelf, placing it on your lap. When you awake, you'd probably think you fell asleep reading. But I knew better. When Professor Umbridge caught that girl who told on the DA, I thought I would have to obliviate her memory too. I was so happy, so proud of your quick thinking and wit. These were only the few things I love about you.

Sixth Year wasn't any better, because I was still without you. In other words, I've achieved everything, except that one thing that actually mattered the most. Next Year would be the last of Hogwarts, and the last I'll see of you, and that scares me. Dumbledore mixed the House Prefects together, making you and Zabini paired together. After some tough manly negotiating, well, I bribed that Italian bastard, I was your partner, and you got to know me better. I smile whenever I think of it again. I knew you much better, even though I kept most of what I felt inside, at times, showing you parts of the good me. Oh how I loved you so. Swapping playful banter was fun, at nights, I would smile up at the ceiling, remember what you said, playing it over and over again in my mind, creating a little world of you and me. If you'd known, well, I don't know what you'd say.

It's Seventh Year, and I'm contemplating whether it's really worth giving up this sort of bond we have for something that you might not understand, something that I would get my heart broken for. As you sit up there on the roof of the Astronomy Tower beside me, clinging onto my sleeve, scared that you might fall and joking with you about it. We spent many study periods, talking about the most random subjects. I smile secretly when you're looking at the view, thinking how perfect this is, how much more must my love grow till I have to tell you, that I think, I will never be sure of. So I'll sit here and wither away, my unspoken love to die with me inside. I'm smiling bitterly at myself again. I think I hate myself. Sneaking into the Head Common Room I stare at you snuggled up into the plush sofa, softly snoring. I gently touch the unruly curls on your hair, pangs sting my chest, and my throat is closing. I feel like I want to cry, but I'm immune to tears. Stroking your cheek, you start to stir, and I'm starting to panic with fear. Standing up, I tripped over the edge of the carpet, resulting in me falling behind the sofa. "Who's there? Draco?" you call out. I stayed silent, not moving. Waiting for her to leave the room, crouching low behind the sofa ready to get away, she wouldn't go. Instead, she kept talking, "I wish it were you, Draco." That sentence really got to me, as if it were some declaration of love from your heart to mine. Slowly, but surely I got up. I touched her shoulder, startling her. She leveled her gaze to mine, "How much did you hear?"

"Enough to realize that you have feelings for me and not Potter," I replied, a smile appearing at the corner of my mouth.

I recognize that look of guilt cross her features, she tore her gaze away and said nothing. "It's okay," I soothed her, "I was just joking, you don't really have feelings for me anyway." But I couldn't mask the sound of disappointment from my voice.

"It's not that," she finally spoke, "I—I've never liked Harry at all really. I don't know why I agreed. I'm so confused." She put her hands to her head and stared straight at me.

"I've always loved you," I spilt out, "I've loved you ever since First Year. And then on it just grew and grew…" I couldn't believe I was finally saying all this.

Her face turned to different expressions, shock, surprise, disbelief and bewilderment. I gave up then and turned away, thinking that she just might stop me.

She didn't.

Instead she grabbed my shoulders and pulled me into a deep kiss.


End file.
